While she sat on the edge of the bed he pulled off the dirty slippers that told of a flight down a dark, muddy street. She put her fingers to the task of untying the garters that held up her stockings and his eyes were glued to that sight. When he looked up into her face she smiled.
“Do you seduce me, John?”
He sighed, then took a seat beside her on the bed and pulled off his boots. “It is as much the other way around,” he muttered. He pulled off the leather jerkin next and his linen shirt followed it to the pile on the floor. He looked at her and shrugged. “You’ll never believe me if I tell you—” He stopped, looked her over again, and let out a deep sigh. “Come, love, there’s no help for it.”
She was pulled down beside him on the bed and neither of them stirred. She did not think her simple shift and his breeches protection but neither did she feel threatened. When he finally pulled her into his embrace it was carefully, gently, and she snuggled against him in comfort.
She shuddered slightly as his hands began to touch and caress, but he calmed her with soft words. “I’ll not hurt you, darling.” His hands moved over her with more serious intent, and she was sure beyond a doubt that her maidenhood would end here. She was pleased with the sensations he evoked in her and she reached out to touch him, to reciprocate, but he stopped her abruptly and bade her not touch him again. A groan came from somewhere deep within him as he continued to bathe her in delicious ministrations. By the light of a single candle she could see his features hard, his jaw tight and eyes clamped shut.
Worry tensed her, for though the decision had been made in her own mind to explore this desire she had so frequently felt, she had no idea what she should be doing. She moaned in her own confusion and he silenced her with his mouth. His touches sparked excitement in her she had never before known and all reason was lost. It was that same wave of desire that plagued her dreams, the same quickness that crept over her when Chad was too near. And now with the contact, it was out of control. Every place his fingertips tested tingled and then burned. She was writhing and turning in his embrace and he became rougher, more determined. She could not fathom where he was leading her but earnestly hoped they would soon arrive.
Her ignorance played against her. He had not disrobed; his weight didn’t press her down or hold her. She cried out in exquisite agony as all at once something exploded inside of her, her world going instantly black and dragging her under a heavy curtain of blinding pleasure.
She drifted back slowly, her confusion dulled only by the magnificence of the moment. She turned to look at him. His expression was serious and calm, and he gently kissed her lips. Her mouth formed a silent question.
“Shhh,” he whispered. “Don’t think about it now.”
“But why?”
He shrugged and pulled her closer to him. “That was the thing you’ve wondered about, darling. That was the most immediate problem.”
“But there’s more...I know there’s more...”
John groaned. “Aye, a great deal more, but not for me. You are not mine.”
“I am more yours than anyone else’s,” she murmured.
He gave a short, unpleasant laugh. “That will be remedied.”
“Does this mean you love me?” she asked timidly.
“No, darling. I don’t love you. And neither do you love me. This has nothing to do with love. This is nature, that’s all. Love is separate. The true joy is when the two can come together.”
“Only a common whore would—”
“Neither that, Chelynne. I wanted to pleasure you.”
“And you?”
“A kind of misery I could never expect you to understand.” He laughed ruefully. “Such an unselfish bastard am I.”
“What am I to do now?” she asked with a sob in her voice.
“Nothing.”
“We just go our separate ways? As if nothing—”
His face was above hers, his features sharp and strained, his voice gruff though he spoke in a whisper. “There is nothing binding in this. Bonds come from the heart, Chelynne, not from a simple touch. Let this teach you. The easing of that need is a simple thing. Love is a great deal more complicated.”
Every inch of her being was undone. To be so careless, so casual with this emotion that seemed almost sacred; it was beyond her comprehension. How removed he was, how uninvolved. “Better I should not have known,” she murmured.
“Don’t worry with it, love. It’s not going to happen again. From now Chad would not allow us in the same room together and it is certain he will be keeping a closer eye to you.”
“He won’t even know,” she huffed, turning away from him.
“He will know,” John returned, gently touching her hair.
“He wouldn’t care if he did,” she said dejectedly.
“You’re wrong, darling. For this he will kill me.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A bright morning sun brought Chelynne out of her sleep. The sight of the little room and the memory of what had taken place there made her shudder. There was such a look of poverty about it that she winced at the thought of herself in this atmosphere, in this bed. John was just a few paces away, scraping off his whiskers in front of an old, cracked mirror.
Her entire body burned with fear and shame. How could she placate Stella? And if he should ask, what would she tell Chadwick? What had she been thinking of? She was totally humiliated and then she thought of John’s confession, his friendship with her husband. She sat up with a gasp.
“Good morning,” he said brightly as he turned toward her.
“I’ve got to be out of here,” she declared, bounding out of the bed.
“Get dressed, then, and I’ll see you home.”
“Are you mad? I’ll see myself home and I don’t wish to see you again. Stay clear of me, d’ye hear? I don’t care what trouble I’m in, don’t come near me...not to save me, not for anything...” As she ranted she was frantically collecting her garments, every burdensome layer and every starched piece. Her hands shook as she sought to fasten the many little ties and hooks and bows. She finally achieved some measure of her dressing and had come to the gown, the heavy velvet burdened with far too many fastenings.
John noticed her trouble in catching every one and brushed her hands aside to give assist. “I won’t be seeing you after today, countess. Later, someday when all is well with you and you’re bearing your first little lord, mayhaps then I shall pay a visit.”
“You’re insane,” she murmured. She shook her head and grabbed for her cloak, which hung on a peg near the door. “I can’t make any sense of you at all, talking in your riddles. I can’t imagine why I’ve—”
“It won’t make any difference now,” he laughed. “It’s done and I’m taking you home. I think perhaps the earl will keep a closer eye on you from now.”
“He’ll have to have mighty good eyes,” she huffed. “This entire city is in a state of lunacy and before I have any more reason to wish myself dead I’m going to the country, whether or not His Lordship approves.” She had succeeded in fastening her cloak and pulled on her gloves. With a shudder she thought aloud, “Damn, I’ve no vizard.”
“No matter, countess. No one will recognize you on this side of town. Let’s go.”
“You are mad!”
“Let’s go. I’m taking you home.”
“I’ll take myself home! You can’t possibly be foolish enough to let yourself be seen with me! Now?”
“I’m going with you,” he said slowly. There was a hardness to his blue eyes that froze her for a moment. His usually grinning face was taut and determined. She watched dumbly as he pulled on his coat and took her arm to lead her out.
On the street she saw a coach waiting, evidence that he had been most deliberate in his plan. He must have left her when she was still asleep and either sent someone off to fetch it or gone for it himself. The entire journey was one long argument in which she pleaded with him to stop and get out, leaving her alone to explain her absence as she would.
“If not for yourself, then for me, do not face my husband. I couldn’t bear the humiliation of being delivered home like a naughty child.”
“But that’s exactly what you are.”
“How dare you!”
“How dare I? My sensuous little kitten, ready and willing to place yourself trustingly in any hands that can deliver you pleasure. You’ve played the game with the gallants and complain of your husband’s lack of interest. His husbandly virtues are condemned and I have yet to see wifely talents from you.”
“How cruel,” she gasped, looking into the fire of his hard blue eyes in wonder.
“Not so cruel. Honest. Go home now and act better the wife. You put your trust and confidence in a total stranger and ridicule that man who supports and cares for you.”
“You don’t understand,” she cried with unrestrained fury.
“I understand better than you think. I understand that you are a spoiled and ungrateful child, pouting and fussing whenever the situation does not please you. Do you think you’re the only grande dame who puts up with a less than perfect husband? Do you think that in marriages that are arranged there is instantaneous love and devotion? Why don’t you try accepting your circumstances, and instead of criticizing his every move, give your husband some wifely support?”
Her eyes were wide and surprised with the insensitivity of his words. Tears welled up in her eyes and traced slow paths down her cheeks. “Strangely different course you take with me now, sir,” she murmured, the hurt apparent in her words.
His grin mocked her. “It’s a different thing I need now. My words fit the occasion, that is all.”
“I...I thought you cared...some small bit...”
His laugh was loud and cruel. “And you will think the next sweet-tongued lad loves you too, I suppose. Take care, my lady. There is only one man who gains nothing by using you and that is your husband.”
She sniffed piteously, wondering how her heart could have been so wrong, how she could have misjudged his character so completely. His touch was now a sinful and vile thing in her mind. How could he use her so cruelly, humiliate her so totally without remorse? What did he hope to gain?
“Would you stop that insufferable weeping and calm yourself? We’ve arrived. At least try to give off some resemblance to a woman instead of a babe in arms!” He looked away from her briefly and then with a sharper edge to his voice, sounding as though he was disgusted with the very sight of her, he added, “God, but there’s nothing grates on a man like that constant sniveling.”
She gave a loud silencing sniff and lifted her chin, more angry now than hurt. He jumped down from the coach and then helped her out. Swiftly he walked to the door and three loud and impatient raps opened that portal. Bestel stood there instead of the steward. Instant relief showed on the manservant’s face.
“We’ve been a mite worried after ye, mum,” he said, a light admonishing tone to his voice. “ ‘Is Lordship’s been up the night steamin’.”
“Oh, my child. My baby’s safe!” Stella’s fretful squeaking went almost completely unnoticed by Chelynne, for close on her heels was Chad, stone-faced and anxious. Chelynne wiggled free of Stella’s confining embrace to watch as John bowed briefly and faced Chad.
“Once again you have delivered my wife safely home, Sir John,” he said in a strained voice. “My thanks.”
“It was my pleasure, Your Lordship,” John returned with an insolent grin.
“When did you come across her?”
“Why, last night, as a matter of fact. It was quite late.”
Chad’s cheek twitched nervously. He eyed the man up and down and his anger was mounting. He turned to Stella, hardly regarding Chelynne at all. “Take Her Ladyship to her rooms and see to her. I will see Sir John in my study.”
Chad did not wait for any response. He turned on his heel and made long strides to that appointed place, John falling in behind. Chelynne gave a gasp and wiggled away from Stella again, running after the men. She didn’t catch up until Chad had entered the study and was just about to close the door after John. “Chad, listen to me. There’s nothing amiss here, I swear it. It was too late to find a coach and Sir John found me a room in an inn.”
Chad looked between John and his wife and then slowly closed them into the room. “Do you insist on staying through this discussion, madam?”
“There’s no need for discussion, as I’ve tried to—”
“Be silent or leave,” he snapped. Her mouth went instantly shut. There was a sternness to Chad’s expression now that frightened her more than anything he had done in the past.
“Where did my wife stay the night?” he asked John impatiently.
“As she said, Your Lordship. In an inn.”
“There would have been servants to be found there. Someone could have found a coach or delivered a message to me. Why was this not done?”
“The hour was late. She confided you would not wonder at her absence.”
“There was no inn,” he accused.
“I confess, there was none,” John relented with a mocking grin.
“Where did you keep her the night?”
“My own room.”
“And did you take advantage of her circumstance?”
“I did not!” John shouted boldly.
“Chad,” Chelynne broke in fearfully. “Stop this madness. He rescued me from a dangerous situation. He did not abuse me in any way.”